


After the war

by emilymelon015



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Endgame Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fluff, M/M, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Mild Smut, POV Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:04:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilymelon015/pseuds/emilymelon015
Summary: Harry and Draco both return for 8th year and find their friends are more interested in each other than them... They become unlikely friends and slowly the heal each other





	After the war

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this is my first time writing a fan-fic, so I'll try and update etc... but I accept constructive criticism (especially on how to write Draco's thoughts, speech, pov!) But sorry for crap writting skills and storyline

Harry walked into the great hall for the first time that year. He wished he hadn’t. Images flashed through his mind of the last battle and all those bodies. They shouldn’t have died for him. His breathing became tight, but he made himself go and sit with Ron and Hermione for dinner, they hadn’t realised what the war had caused him. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal for as long as he could remember, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept a full night, his nightmares keeping him up. He had grown thin and pale and he had long thin scars all up his arms. It didn’t hurt anymore, in fact the physical pain was a good substitute for the mental, Harry felt it gave him a reason to feel pain. He had moved into Grimaud place on his own, having felt he had long outstayed his visit at the Burrow, he also felt the need to give Ron and Hermione their own space. A few places down Harry noticed Malfoy sitting with Zabini and Parkinson, with much the same expression on his face. They caught eyes and quickly looked away. Harry realised that he couldn’t be the only one having a negative impact from the war, which only made him feel worse. The war was his fault. He excused himself from dinner, although no one seemed to hear him and made his way to the 8th year common room. Luckily the staff had included an 8th year tower so they wouldn’t have to mix with their own houses and get their privacy. Harry didn’t think he could bear it if he had to face Ginny anymore.

They had quickly broken up after the war as it wasn’t working out. Harry had felt it a chore to try and talk to Ginny at all and had quickly found her annoying and clingy, she didn’t give him any time alone and just wanted to be near him, he couldn’t blame her, she’d thought him dead for a while, but all the same, Harry didn’t think he could bare a relationship anymore. He had tried to be nice to Ginny and explain it, he just didn’t feel the same anymore, but she’d still cried, which had made Harry feel even worse. To her credit, she hadn’t blown up in Harrys face and started cursing him, although Harry thought that might have been a better alternative to the tears, as he just felt helpless. They hadn’t talked since and the Weasley’s had stared to find it difficult to be around him as he was emitting a lot of depressive energy and didn’t even smile. He also didn’t eat anything at all which made Mrs. Weasley fuss, which had resulted at Harry telling her to get lost and leave him alone. A few days later he had moved out as even looking out of the window and seeing the marsh, where him and Hagrid had crashed a year before, made his breathing short and shallow and he would have to go to the bathroom, sometimes it was even the casual mention of Hogwarts that made him loose control. In the 8th year tower, as there were so few of them returning, they each had a small separate room, with an en-suit. Harry noted that he was a few doors down from Ron and he shared a wall with the edge of the building and none other than Malfoy himself. Brilliant. If it wasn’t enough that Malfoy had bullied and teased him all through his school years, he now had so be his next-door-fucking-neighbour. Harry entered his room and realised he still had an hour or so of privacy as everyone was at Dinner. Classes started the week following, but they had the weekend to unpack and ‘enjoy’ life. Fat chance.

Harry got his trunk out and unpacked. His mind wandered and found himself wonder why on earth Malfoy had decided to return to school at all. His families name had been disgraced after his father had been locked up primarily as a death eater, but then his wife and child had come forward and testified against him, by saying that he had raped and abused his wife and used veritiserum against his son, to try and get information out of the teachers so Voldemort could infiltrate Hogwarts. Knowing that he was already sentenced for life, Malfoy had admitted to the accused crimes and used his late minuets strip his family of their home, by telling lies of its condense, which caused the ministry to remove Draco and his mother so they could destroy it. The last Harry had heard, they were living in an apartment in the outskirts of London, he didn’t care much. A moment later, Harry heard footsteps and the door next to his slam shut. Brilliant. Malfoy was back. Harry was about to throw himself onto his bed to sleep when he heard muffled sobs. Harry felt a pang of guilt again. Even if it was Malfoy, it was still another person who had been affected by the war. He also felt bad for Malfoy being subject to Imperious for all the past years, even in 5th year it had been brutal, and it had only been for about 5 minutes, he couldn’t imagine what it had been like for 7 years… it also explained why Malfoy had been so nice to him the first time they had met in Madam Malkins….

Harry had fallen into an uneasy sleep and woken up some 2 hours later, with a raw throat and heavy breathing. His nightmares had worsened having come back to the battlefield. He had seen flashed of people dying and screaming and flashes of light. It had kept cutting scene. One moment he was with Hagrid in the forbidden forest, and the next he was at Kings Cross. Voldemort’s hollow face was everywhere, everywhere he had looked, he had seen those red flashing eyes. Harry knew he had been screaming and sweating. Silently he got up and went to the bathroom with a knife from dinner. As the beads of blood appeared on his skin, he barely felt them as the tears rolled down his face and into the sink. External pain was a much better substitute from internal, where it destroyed him slowly, instead of seeing a reason to hurt. After he had stopped bleeding, Harry washed himself and the sink off and climbed into bed, where he slept uneasily until he woke at 7 for breakfast.

The next morning Harry clambered out of bed, dressed, and went down to breakfast, daring not to look at his reflection, Ron and Hermione wouldn’t notice anyways. As Harry sat down he glanced at Malfoy, he didn’t know why, but he felt he should check on him after last night. To his surprises, Malfoy looked back and something like horror passed through his eyes at the sight of Harry. Harry wasn’t surprised as he caught sight of himself in a plate, his eyes were sunken, and half closed, he was thin and ragged and looked half dead. After shoving some food down himself, Harry dragged himself into his room again. He planned to spend the day wandering around Hogsmead alone as Ron and Hermione would be occupied with each other as usual. Harry got his coat and left silently through the door. Once he had wandered a while, he tripped over someone and as he was muttering ‘Sorry’ he realised it was none other than Malfoy. Malfoy stopped, and they stared at each other for a while, when Malfoy broke the silence by saying;

‘You ok, Potter?’

‘Never better.’ Was Harry’s short reply

‘No, seriously…. I heard you last night.’

‘It was nothing, just an old nightmare, shove off Malfoy’

‘Sure…. I’m sorry about the past 7 years… I’m assuming you heard…. Well anyways, I did genuinely want to be your friend at the start, then my father stepped in…. but I wanted to ask if you wanted to be civil to each other? I can’t be bothered to fight anymore …’ ‘Yeah, fine, whatever…’ said Harry, ‘suits me too.’

Harry walked off and as he rounded the corner, he glimpsed Malfoy still standing there, still as a statue. Well at least he wouldn’t have to put up with Malfoys snarky comments this year. Truth be told, Harry wasn’t quite sure why he had even returned for his final year.

He didn’t want anything to do with the wizarding community once he left. It was so messed up, they were a magic dependant, senseless bunch of lazy idiots, even Dumbledore has used Harry as a pawn in the war, to try and bring Voldemort down, when he was to old to do anything himself. He had been stupid to listen and follow whatever he had said… Harry continued to wander around Hogsmeade, not doing much. Eventually he arrived back at Hogwarts and went straight to bed, no one would miss him at dinner and he wasn’t hungry. He stared out the window and the more he thought about it, the more he wished it could have been Neville. But of course, with his brilliant luck, it had to be him; The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, Undesirable No. One…. And of course, the love interest of many teenaged girls…. He wished he could have had one normal drama-free year, just to relax and enjoy himself. Right from his arrival at Hogwarts, he seemed to have had a target stuck on his back, a bloody big one too.

The next morning, he walked into the hall and started to pick at a piece of toast, he guessed all those years of starvation at the Dursleys had worn off on him. Ron and Hermione weren’t up yet, neither were many 8th years, or any other years for that matter. It was quite early, Harry supposed. Good. No one to bother him. Once again, he was wrong. Just then Malfoy walked into the hall and sat down near him.

‘I noticed you weren’t at dinner last night.’ Said Malfoy

Harry’s only response was to look up and shake his head.

‘You eat?’

Again, Harry shook his head.

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

‘Yes, I’m alright, leave me alone, I don’t want to talk.’

‘I’m worried about you, Potter…’

Harry went back to ignoring him. Harry finished his half piece of toast and left. He didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted away. Away from that hall. That place that had held so many bodies of family, friends and lovers. So many people had lost loved ones and had their futures shattered. Teddy was only a baby and, like Harry, was orphaned because of a war. Harry continued to wander through the castle, when he found himself outside the 7th floor, outside the room of requirement. Harry walked past the tapestry 3 times,

‘I need somewhere to be alone’

The door appeared, and Harry slipped in. The room was reasonably comfy, with chairs and a fireplace, as well as a bathroom. Harry sat on one of the chairs and thought about all of it. He always came back to the same conclusion, it was his fault. The whole mess he had landed in. So many people had died for him, died for the boy who was now depressed, who wanted no connection to the wizarding world at all. When he had first arrived, Harry had thought it was amazing, a fresh start. Away from the Dursleys. He’d thought magic to be this amazing thing, that solved problems. It had done the opposite. It had taken away all common sense and made people use magic as a crutch. As he sobbed and drifted in and out of nightmarish sleep, Harry didn’t realise the door slip open and Malfoy walk in, his face pale from the what he had walked in on.

Malfoy was much the same as Harry, just looking for a place to be alone. Well, the room had made them alone together, as it couldn’t give more than one room at the same time. For a while, Malfoy just stood transfixed at the sight of Potter, his heart wrenched as he realised that his bullying, although not his fault, couldn’t have helped. Suddenly, Harry looked up to go and went bright red when he saw Malfoy standing there. ‘How long have you been there?’ Malfoy didn’t answer and was struck speechless. He moved and went and sat down next to Harry and started to cry.

‘I’m sorry, Potter… I couldn’t… I’m sorry…’

‘Look, Malfoy, I don’t blame you… your father… it’s not your fault…’ After a moment of Harry started silently sobbing again and buried himself in the sofa, Harry finally looked at Malfoy.

Malfoy noticed Harry had taken his jumper off and gasped at the sight of his arms.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. It’s nothing’ ‘It’s not nothing, you’ve been hurting yourself, and starving. I never imagined… you of all people’

‘I can’t… really though, I’m fine… stop fussing… what am I to you?’

‘I don’t know, look, your missing meals, not sleeping and you look half like death… what happened?’

Harry didn’t answer, after a while, Malfoy said;

‘Harry?’ After a pause, Harry replied,

‘I don’t know… Its not worth living this life… everyone who died… it’s all my fault, I didn’t deserve all these people to do this… and it’s obvious that people don’t care anymore… Ron and Hermione… They just want to be together the whole time… they haven’t noticed me…. Neither do the Weasley’s… they made me feel so welcome at the start… then Ginny and I broke up and they kicked me out….’ Harry was streaming now, he had never even voiced this to himself, never really thought about how little people he had left that cared about him… as he realised this he sub-consciously slid onto Malfoys shoulder and Malfoy put an arm around him. It was the safest Harry had felt in a long time, he realised.

It was Draco who said; ‘It’s not all your fault, Harry. You had a lot of pressure on you to be the saviour and the symbol of peace and victory. People saw you as this hero… you were only small… it was unfair on you.’ Malfoy paused, ‘As for the war, it was always going to happen eventually… it was inevitable, of course you were the centre point, but without you, many more people might have died and Voldemort may have won… then think of the mess we would be in.’

Harry gave a weak smile, ‘Those people were always going to be willing to fight for a better world, hope that one day the darkness would come to an end.’

‘Thank you…… no one’s ever said that…’

‘Harry?’

‘Yes?’

‘Promise me one thing? Please don’t cut or starve yourself again… it kills me to see you like this… I will feed you if you don’t …’ Draco gave a weak smile 

‘I can try… no promises…’ They were silent for a moment when Draco asked; ‘Can we give being friends a try? Then I can look after you properly?’

‘I suppose… I don’t deserve it…’

‘Yes, yes you do Harry, you deserve someone to save you, like you have saved all of us.’

Harry snuggled into Draco further and drifted into an easier sleep than he could remember.

\---------------

He must have slept for hours as when he awoke, he was starving, and he saw a pile of sandwiches and a glass of water on the table. As he looked for Draco, he saw Dobby. Dobby was his usual beaming self but was only wearing one tea-cosy and odd socks.

‘Harry Potter, sir!’ he squeaked ‘Master Draco send me to fetch food for you and to tell you if you woke up that he would be here soon.’ Harry nodded, and Dobby continued, ‘Dobby is so happy to see Harry Potter, sir, Dobby would like to thank Harry Potter very much sir, you saved us, sir!’

‘Your welcome Dobby, though I’m afraid most of it was Hermione and luck…’

‘Well, sir, you know what they say, “Luck favours the prepared”, so you must have been very prepared, because you were very lucky, sir!’

At that moment, Draco walked in.

‘Good, you’re up. Time for breakfast’

‘I really don’t need it…’ ‘Yes, you do, you need the weight and the energy if you’re going to stay awake in class today’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea… I don’t want to go to class…’

‘Tough. I need a friend in double potions and DADA.’

Harry didn’t answer and began to eat a sandwich that Draco had handed him, he ate slowly, but Draco made him continue every time he paused. Draco fussed, but it didn’t bother Harry like Mrs. Weasley had. Draco was kind and firm and gentle at the same time and he cared, unlike Mrs. Weasley, who had been all fuss and no care. Slowly Harry finished the plate and the glass. He was stuffed.

‘Thank you, Draco.’

Draco’s heart jumped and the sound of Harry saying his name, it sounded good and unforceful, it was a nice change, until then the only times he could remember his name being said was from his father giving him a command, or his Mother, screaming in vain for her husband to stop. His reply had been the cruciatus curse, which was given through Draco. When they had been freed from him, Draco hadn’t stopped apologising to his mother. The guilt weighed him down like a bag of bricks strapped to his back. It had taken a while for them to develop a relationship, as even although they had been through the same. It was mainly because Draco and his mother had never been allowed much bonding time as a child as his father had always commanded him and locked his mother away as his personal toy. Soon they began talking and told each other thing they hadn’t dared tell anyone else as they would be laughed at and teased. When Draco had come out as Gay to his mother, it had been tearful, and Draco had regretted it for a while, but his mother had been supportive of him and not made fun of him at all, until Draco and her had formed a bond underneath mother and son. At first it had been awkward, but soon they had sat down and talked for hours, there had been tears and laughter and at the end a silent agreement never to tell anyone until Draco was ready, by then end of it, they felt although they could tell each other anything.

‘You’re welcome, Harry.’


End file.
